


Under the Same Suns

by DerpingLina



Series: Under The Same Suns [1]
Category: The Dark Crystal (1982), The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance (TV)
Genre: Gen, Great Division, Illustrated, Injury Recovery, Minor Character Death, Non-Graphic Violence, Recreational Drug Use, Skeksis - Freeform, Updating tags as I go, Urru|Mystics, for now it isn't, general irreverence against mystics, haven't decided yet if this will be shippy or not, non-sexual nudity in illustration in first chapter, vague and brief references to social ladder fuckery among the skeksis, well an attempt at it anyways, yet another take on skekgra and urgoh's backstory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:09:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22517527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DerpingLina/pseuds/DerpingLina
Summary: The personal history of skekGra and urGoh, told in bits. Meetings, conversations, arguments, from the Great Division onward.
Relationships: skekGra & urGoh (Dark Crystal)
Series: Under The Same Suns [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1651297
Comments: 29
Kudos: 20





	1. In Which One Became Two

**Author's Note:**

> One had been set asunder. Two were left to pick up the pieces.
> 
> (Beta'd by my lovely girlfriend erinsmith and early on by my friends Nadie and Issa on discord. Thank you all for your help and encouragement!)

There was a bright burning light, and then he was on the floor. It was hard. The landing had _hurt_. He was still reeling, conscious for only mere seconds, but already he felt angry at it for hurting him.

... Him? Where was he? Who was he?

Something had gone wrong. That's the only thing he knew, a fact so certain he didn’t even bother questioning it at first. He didn't exactly know what it was that had gone amiss, yet he knew the body he was trapped in was wrong, the throbbing in his head was wrong, this sense of loss was wrong, this _cursed cold floor_ was wrong, everything, absolutely everything, was wrong.

... Across him there was another creature. That felt the most wrong of all.

Disoriented, he sat up, staring at this strange being. For some unexplainable reason, he knew he shared – or used to share – a name with it. What was it...?

It was an odd beast to look at, long limbs, long neck, strange spiraling grooves on the skin. Brown eyes staring back at him.

It hurt, looking it in the eye. The loss he felt was suddenly all-consuming; a grief he could not place the origin of, a strong sense of guilt for a misdeed he couldn't even _recall_. It all hurt, almost physically, like a knife cutting him up from the inside. It twisted his innards, shortened his breath, made him dizzy with distress. He wanted the awful sensations to stop. He wanted to make it stop.

So, _so_ wrong.

Yet, he kept looking, frozen, stunned, trying to comprehend what he was seeing. Seemingly the creature was doing the same, there was confusion in its eyes as it assessed him, blinking curiously. It seemed much calmer than him in that moment, not distressed, just disoriented and at worst, unsure. He immediately envied it.

They shared a name. They did! Or they had, at some point! His racing mind was desperately searching for it, as if the answer would be the cure for all these foul sensations and emotions. What was it, if only he could…! It was on the edge of his tongue! _Gra-..._

The world around them didn't leave either of them time to gather their bearings, though, as suddenly a shrill noise distracted them. To the side, another being just like him (just like Gra?) lunged at a creature similar to the brown-eyed one, strangling it. Gra just observed it happen in a daze.

Ah, there were more around them. And one similar to him just collapsed. Gra jumped to his feet, backing away from the writhing thing as it finally gave a last breath and disintegrated to dust, just as the one having been strangled disappeared into thin air. What on... Thra...? He was on Thra – another fact he didn’t bother to question. What on Thra was happening?

The one that did the strangling looked up, and spotted another different one, and taken by bloodlust, lunged at it as well. This one had the time to react, though, and struggled for its life, ensuing a brief wrestle, some of the creatures similar to the murderous one sneering and cackling as they watched from the side-lines.

Gra was compelled to join them, but instead he had decided to do the sensible thing and hid behind a boulder, lest the murderous one would decide to turn on one of its own. He was still getting used to this body (Why? Hadn’t he always had this flesh? Something told him otherwise.) and did not want to test if he could overpower it or not. He watched the spectacle from his hiding spot, and he found it all oddly entertaining, as the tussle was rather one-sided.

The one different from Gra was only trying to keep the other away from itself, instead of trying to incapacitate it. How foolish. How hilarious.

Even the murderous one throwing its enemy into a fiery pit was amusing to Gra. Until the murderous one suddenly burst into flames as well. How...? When it choked one, another similar to Gra choked with it, and now the murderous burned just like the one it had killed. They were… Were they connected by pain?

A creature appeared next to him, and he jumped and hissed at it. In turn, the other jumped as well, putting a bit of distance between them at their hiding place, all four hands up in a placating gesture.

It was the brown eyed one, who shared (or used to share) his name. Gra calmed, just a bit, somehow knowing this counterpart of his wouldn't hurt him.

_Counterpart?_

(Hurt. Were they…?)

After some thinking, he nicked the back of one of his hands with a sharp claw, barely drawing a bit of blood. His counterpart flinched, as a similar injury appeared on the back of its own hand, mirroring Gra's injury perfectly. 

They stared at each other with dawning realization and horror.

They both looked away when they heard screeching, only to see chaos unfolding in the chamber they were in. The others similar to Gra were becoming more and more aggressive, and the other halves were trying to escape, a large one (so familiar, yet so... _different_ ) staying behind to keep Gra's kind at bay.

Gra looked back at his other half.

If one was hurt, so was the other, if one died, so did the other. Gra did not want to die. But his other half, and thus him, might, if it stayed here. So, again, he did the sensible thing.

He shoved his other half, hard. Hissed at it as it regained its footing. Would have yelled at it to scram, but at this point his tongue was alien and uncooperative in his mouth. He did everything in his power to intimidate it into leaving, running with the rest of its kind. He made all kinds of noises and shooing motions, even grabbed something from the rubble that he could swing around threateningly.

The other got the message, as it scrambled to reach the large one of its kind and the exit behind it. Before leaving, though, it looked back, once. Its eyes held no fear, unlike some of its kind, spooked by the hostility directed at them.

They only held curiosity.


	2. The Seeker and the Wanderer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they interact again for the first time since the Great Division.
> 
> (Beta'd by my gf erinsmith! Thank you so much!)

He saw his other half several trine later. It now had a title: the Wanderer. All the other urRu (as the revolting creatures had dubbed themselves as – ‘wise ones’, _how pretentious_ ) had gone into hiding. Well, he had to concede that that was not quite true, _nearly_ all. But among those few who hadn’t was the Wanderer. Of course skekGra would get the adventurous type as his counterpart! Why couldn't it stay put wherever the others of its kind had disappeared to? Now skekGra would end up worrying on the regular about how it would accidently kill them both. This kind of stress was not healthy for a Skeksis like him.

Chamberlain had once, not long after the Beginning, suggested they should find and capture their counterparts lest they do something dumb like fall into a pit and die, as a pre-emptive measure. The idea had been rejected, as the Emperor rather wanted to forget they had ever even existed, as he'd want to forget anything and everything that reminded him of not existing in the form he now did. And anyways, skekGra remembered him reasoning, they all should be glad to be rid of their weakness represented by the Mystics (as the beasts were also called, courtesy of the Gelflings, after rumors had spread about them being evil wizards, started by the Skeksis themselves). He would never question the Emperor's decision, and he did love it when Chamberlain was taken down a notch, but skekGra had to admit there was some appeal to his idea.

Especially now, after the dumb creature linked to him had offered itself as the Hunter's next trophy, because apparently it was fond of his next prey. Something about the long slimy creature being the Mystic’s only guide to some place in the Endless Forest that was unreachable without its help, _skreesh_ if skekGra knew. Regardless, one just didn't get in the way of skekMal when he hunted. It simply was not done. It was one of the most suicidal things one could do. Well apparently skekGra's other half hadn't gotten the memo, thinking itself the Archer and thus _relatively_ safe from skekMal's bloodlust, since the Hunter had the common sense to not try killing his own counterpart – most of the time. It wasn't the Archer. It was just the biggest fool on all of Thra.

And so skekGra had had to get into the way of the Hunter to ensure he didn't kill the miserable thing.

_Wonderful._

That had been yesterday, and skekGra was glad to have left the encounter without any serious (by his standards) injuries, even if it had left his pride (and his self) quite bruised. He was resting up in some tent made of leaves and branches, sporting a quite unflattering bump on his head, an arm supported by a makeshift sling. At least it wasn’t broken. He felt miserable regardless.

Curse skekMal and the dumb feral way he would get when it came to hunting. And here skekGra thought being on friendly terms with him (as friendly as one can get with someone like skekMal, which wasn't much) would spare him the trouble. Well, he supposes the Hunter had gone easy on him, as killing a fellow Skeksis was a no-go, but it was clear he was pissed at skekGra and his counterpart for interrupting him.

The anger went both ways. How dare skekMal give the mighty skekGra the Seeker a concussion? After everything they've been through together – sharing a couple of ales, competing in who can find a worthy adversary among the creatures of Thra and kill it in the most brutal fashion, mudwrestling! And he would _still_ turn on the Seeker! _How dare he!_

The memory of kicking the savage spithead in the stomach and scratching him up mollified him a bit, at least. Serves him right, trying to mess with the Seeker.

Eventually they'd be back to speaking terms anyways, as if this whole incident had never happened. That's how it was with Skeksis. Status quo and whatnot. How else could one explain that skekSil was still Lord Chamberlain, despite being... well, _skekSil?_ Or for that matter, someone as dumb and tactless as skekVar being _Lord Ambassador_. Real changes in relations only happened when the Emperor said so.

The Seeker’s other half entered the tent, having treated its own mirrored injuries. It had left its usual headwear somewhere, exposing its dark brown hair, most of which was neatly braided at the back of its neck. Its damaged arm was in a sling similar to skekGra’s. It was holding a bowl of something broth-like in one of its undamaged hands. It silently held the bowl out for him to take. Smelling the soup, the Seeker scoffed.

"This doesn't even have meat in it!" he complained, but took the offered meal anyways, not even bothering with using a spoon as he attempted to pretty much drink the thing.

He then proceeded to choke on a piece of vegetable, just to make his day worse. Equally affected by this through their unfortunate linkage, the Wanderer scrambled towards him, making desperate gasping sounds. Trying to help the Seeker, it choked out a “Cough it up!“ as it helped him properly sit up. Thankfully, once he was bent forward, trying to cough, the piece seemed to have dislodged itself, sparing them both. Relieved gasps filled the tent. It would have been an embarrassing way to die. The Emperor would have thrown a fit that the Seeker even _dared_ to die in the first place, not to mention the dumb circumstances of his demise, as if it was in skekGra’s intentions to ruin his fantasy of being immortal.

He was feeling more vitriolic towards his fellow Skeksis than usual, if he was being cynical even regarding the Emperor, he thought.

"Slow... down..." his other half wheezed.

"Oh shut up, Mystic! Maybe you should have cut the vegetables into smaller pieces!" skekGra shot back petulantly.

"It's... urGoh. Might… as well… use my name… while berating me… after… saving… our lives," it replied, seemingly annoyed but resigned.

"What was that?" the Seeker asked, distracted by trying to balance the bowl on his lap and hold a spoon with his uninjured hand. The Mystic just watched him, unamused.

"My name. It’s... urGoh," it deadpanned.

... Huh.

Hearing the name felt like a puzzle piece finally falling into place. Up until that point his Mystic half's name was only at the tip of his tongue, but never quite manifesting itself. It felt like a revelation to finally know what it was. A soothing balm to the burn of a past desperate question. At the same time, the feeling of something important missing resurfaced. It made skekGra feel… _hollow_. The knowledge of their shared name hadn’t eased any pain, in the end. It had even made it worse.

And he knew for fact that he really shouldn’t feel this way. The only feelings he should’ve been having regarding any of the Mystics were distaste and a sense of relief for being rid of some great weakness they had all represented. Not whatever was clawing at his chest at the moment, the pain familiar. It hadn’t hurt like this since the Great Division.

"Is... everything... alright?" urGoh asked when the Seeker kept staring into his bowl without touching it.

This emptiness, it was unbearable. He wanted it to stop. He wanted to make it stop. Or escape it.

"A-ah, I better, er- I better get moving- you know how it is, I might be needed at the Castle... and uh, and such" he muttered in a daze as he suddenly put the bowl aside and stood up.

"But... your injuries...?" urGoh asked in confusion, standing as well, "Are you sure...? Will you really... be alright?" 

"Sure I am sure! And sure I will! You seemed okay to move about before, I should do just fine!"

"If... you... say so..." urGoh said to the retreating Skeksis' back, not convinced in the slightest.

"Yes, yes, anyways, thank you for the, uh, treatment, and the food. I'll just…" he trailed off, searching for his satchel and blade.

A beat.

" _'Thank you’_...? Did you just...?"

SkekGra, having had his back turned, didn't see urGoh's wide eyes or raised eyebrows, and he was too distracted to note the increasing alarm in the Mystic’s voice. Only after a few moments did he notice he had said a very uncharacteristic thing for a Skeksis.

Skeksis never thanked anything. Not genuinely. Which he just did.

He fled the tent, seriously fearing for his sanity.


	3. Tentative Acquaintanceship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which skekGra regrets running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Couldn't find the energy/inspiration to draw the illustration for this chapter for a bit and didn't want to upload it without one, so… But here it is now!
> 
> Beta'd by my lovely girlfriend erinsmith, as always.

Their next meeting was about half a day later. Turned out, skekGra was not alright.

Well, he had been sort of alright, but the concussion had made him just disoriented enough to get hopelessly lost in the forest, and then, well, following a couple hasty decisions a series of unfortunate events had happened, and he was pretty sure he had broken a leg at some point, and it all went further downhill from there.

Lesson learned: do not travel when concussed. Also stick to the roads. He wasn’t the Hunter, after all.

“…This is just embarrassing” he muttered to himself after a bit, sighing. He was supposed to be smarter than getting himself into the situation he had found himself in. He was a great fighter and good tactician, blessed with both endurance and a working brain. He could best Skeksis that far outweighed him because of his wits and agility. And he wasn't afraid of anything!

Except, apparently, the ever widening abyss that had been in his chest ever since he could remember.

The worst part was that he had been trying to escape it, this cursed hollowness, but it had followed him. He assumed during his hasty escape that it had been his other half that was causing it directly, as some twisted form revenge, being the weak half purged from him and all, and so distance should make it all the better. The Seeker, however, was frustrated to learn it was not so. It had always been there; he could just… _ignore it_ up until now. Until urGoh had reminded him.

Having been reminded of the inescapable pain, he panicked and fled. And that was how he found himself in his current predicament, under a giant tree, seeking shelter from the heavy rain under a sort of natural dome made out of its roots and trunk. His broken leg throbbed, pain making him hiss. He was drenched from head to tail, form shaking slightly to keep warm.

Curse his other half. This was obviously all the Wanderer's fault.

A limping, uncharacteristically (for an urRu) cranky-looking urGoh found him there shortly after the rain let up slightly. The Wanderer’s clothes seemed to be only slightly damp – apparently having predicted the rain and waiting the worst of it out.

"You... don't look... _'just fine'_..." the Mystic deadpanned.

SkekGra was both relieved and dismayed to see his other half again. He hated this fact immensely.

"Shut up" he mumbled, noting that urGoh's cast around the leg was much better made than his own, which the Seeker had made in a haste, eager to be on his way again, lacking patience to truly make sure it was sturdy enough. He self-consciously tried to hide his swollen limb.

UrGoh just sighed and joined him under the tree's shelter.

The silence was awkward, only broken by urGoh rummaging through some pack containing what seemed to be medical herbs. Apparently finding the appropriate item, the Mystic gestured for skekGra to show his leg, giving him a look when he refused.

After a whole lot of internal debate, the Seeker finally yielded, and let urGoh inspect the injury, the Wanderer noting how the bone had already been set back into its correct position by the Seeker when he had made his makeshift cast. The Mystic put some sort of paste on the swelling, muttering about how skekGra should have let his leg rest and “Exactly… how long… did you even… walk… with this? Too… stubborn… for your… own… good…” as if skekGra was some childling. Or the worse half of the two. Truly embarrassing. Infuriating even, but the Seeker was too exhausted to become enraged. After all was done, seemingly the only thing left was to wait for the leg to heal, at least enough for the Skeksis to continue his travel.

Meaning he was stuck with the Mystic for a bit, it seemed.

Said Mystic was stacking some strange stones upon each other, drawing spiraling patterns in the dirt. SkekGra was about to ask about the purpose of them when the Wanderer rubbed all four hands, putting two on the ground at specific points on the drawn patterns and two on the uppermost stone. The Seeker had just realized there were spirals carved on the stones as well, and they started glowing, the light spreading throughout the entire surface of the uppermost stone, first a gentle yellowish tint, then turning bright orange. Soon enough, skekGra felt warmth coming from it.

That’s… quite nifty. SkekGra had never seen Mystic magic in action from this close proximity. He shifted closer, seeking the heat, as soaked and cold as he was. The Wanderer made no comment on it. For some moments, there was blessed silence as both warmed themselves.

“Why… did you… run?” urGoh asked suddenly, after a bit, skekGra’s head turning sharply towards the Mystic.

“I didn’t run!” he yelled, defensive, “Skeksis don’t run from anything! The worse half run! Mystics run! Like they have in the Beginning!”

UrGoh’s eyes narrowed, entirely unimpressed. “Why… _did_ you… run?” he asked again. SkekGra’s right eye twitched.

“I told you, I didn’t! I was just – um, I just remembered how duty calls! I have to return to the Crystal Castle post haste!” he lied. In reality he visited the Castle as little as he could, especially after skekSa’s humiliation following her speaking out against the Emperor about a trine ago. If she hadn’t the Seeker would have, and then he would have been humiliated as she was. He had wanted to lower the chances of angering the Emperor by being constantly away. That, and the Castle had felt… claustrophobic. How his kind could stay there for trine on end, he could never understand. Still… “Yes! See, I’m a very busy Skeksis! Things to do! You must understand!”

“…I… don’t.” UrGoh rummaged through the pack again, and began rolling some dry leaves up.

“…Well! Maybe I was just getting tired of your company! How does that sound?” the Seeker retorted. Chamberlain was always going on about half truths being the best when it came to hiding the truth. Well, the Seeker _was_ tired of his current company.

“More… believable. Yet… I also… find this answer… doubtful.” Thy Mystic was now attempting to light the roll of dry leaves, succeeding on the second try. The Wanderer took a long inhale of the smoke, and slowly let it back out, unhurried. The smoke smelled sweet.

“Well, I was! One can only stand your manner of speech for so long!”

“What… manner?” The smoke was held out for the Seeker to take. When receiving a confused look from the Skeksis, urGoh explained, “It’s… good… for the… pain.” After a pause, the Mystic added, with a smirk, “Might… also… mellow you out… a bit.”

“ _I don’t need mellowing out!_ ” skekGra yelled, but took the offered smoke anyways. After taking a drag, he instantly started coughing. He hadn’t expected it to be as strong as it was. He gave the roll back to an amused urGoh. “And I meant – _that!_ You speak so slow! You take all these unnecessary pauses!”

“Hm. I… often… find it hard… to find… the words… I want to… say,” the Wanderer explained, “It’s… either… this… or most… of my… speech… would consist… of… _‘uhhh’_. Which… option… would annoy… you… less?”

“Ugh, alright, I get it, you can’t help it,” skekGra muttered, already bored with the conversation. He couldn’t care less about his Mystic half’s speech impediment. He was glad, though, that the topic had changed from his sudden departure. He grabbed for the smoke again, coughing yet again when taking a drag. Maybe if he smoked it enough, urGoh’s slow speech would not drive him as mad as it did, he reasoned.

And that was how the Seeker had spent nearly four days in the company of his urRu, high off his bottom.

Much of that time was but a hazy memory for him, he didn’t even remember what conversations he and urGoh had, only that they’d talked a lot. He’d learned smoking wasn’t for him, but some edibles the Wanderer had in the pack were more than agreeable. Well, except this weird mushroom that’d made skekGra throw up at some point. But he had hallucinated some _fun_ things. Made the recovery time for his leg that much more bearable. Though, skekGra still insisted to be on his way once his leg was well enough to at least walk with a crutch. UrGoh only let him go when he was completely sobered up.

Intoxicated as he was, he hadn’t noticed during those four days that one, he indeed no longer minded urGoh’s lack of speed as much and two, the hollow feeling abated the longer their conversations went on. He forgot it was there at all. He also hadn’t remembered any of the strange images and impressions that occurred to him in his sleep on the third night.

**Author's Note:**

> Heya! This is my first written fanwork I have published in about 10 years! Not that I haven't been writing during that time, I just never had the courage to post them anywhere. I am more of a fanartist, see. Either way, I have started working on this piece since about November, and have finally decided to post the first chapter. While I have a couple of chapters prepared already, updates might still be a bit slow because of uni, and because I intend them to have a few illustrations here and there, which also takes time. Anyways, thank you for reading! :)
> 
> I am also looking for some beta readers in the fandom to help me with future chapters. My gf is a really good beta, so I am not too worried about grammatical issues and the such, but sadly her only connection to any Dark Crytsal content is through me, as she is not that big on fantasy in general. My friends on discord are great at encouraging me, and their input are absolutely wonderful, but they are a bit shy to give constructive criticism. So it'd be really nice to to have a beta who knows the series and isn't afraid to point out mistakes. If anyone is interested, please message me here or on either one of my Tumblrs! Thank you!
> 
> My Tumblrs: @doodlinglina and @linashitpostsandotherthings


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